Dream
by radpineapple
Summary: If you lived in an ideal dream world, would you want to wake up? Inspired by "Dream" by Imagine Dragons.
1. Chapter 1

Life Ain't what it Seems

 **A/N: This takes place between the first and second season. Also, I haven't played Yahtzee in a while, so I apologize if I got the rules wrong. This is based off of the song "Dream" by Imagine Dragons.**

 _We all are living in a dream,_

 _But life ain't what it seems_

 _Oh, everything's a mess_

Ray Palmer proudly stood in front of the applauding crowd and flashing cameras in front of a new museum of science. Once the crowd quieted down, Ray began to speak,

"I am here today to not only open a new museum of science, but I am also here to _dedicate_ this museum to science. My goal is to keep mankind moving forward and keep science propelling upwards."

The crowd cheered.

"Mr. Palmer!" a reporter called to Ray. "How does it feel to be a legend of science?"

Ray beamed. "Well, it wasn't easy getting here," he admitted. "But I will tell you, it feels great. I know I have a purpose, and I know that I am helping benefit the human race. I also know I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for my wife, Anna Palmer," Ray said as he glanced to a beautiful dark-haired woman standing behind him. "She has encouraged me to keep going, and I don't think I would be here without her support."

Ray walked over to Anna and put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. They smiled at each other lovingly. The crowd drank it up and applauded loudly.

O

The breeze softly ruffled through the white, gauzy curtains and lazily made its way through the neat, sturdy house. It wound its way through the hallway adorned with pictures of a happy couple. It rustled through the kitchen, and the cleanly swept counters. It slowly drifted through the dining room and into the living room where two people sat reading peacefully on a couch.

Kendra nestled closer to Carter, and he planted a kiss on her head without looking away from his book. Kendra set her book down and turned to Carter.

"I love you," she said.

Carter looked away from his book and smiled, "I love you, too." He lightly kissed her lips and pulled her even closer to him.

Kendra sighed happily, "Isn't this nice?" She looked around the room. The clock ticked quietly in the background and a bird chirped outside. "It's so peaceful and quiet."

Carter surveyed the room and nodded.

"And it's just us," Kendra added. "There's nothing that could ever separate us."

Carter smiled. "Not now, not ever," he agreed.

Kendra picked up her book and happily resumed reading her story about wild adventures and ancient myths that all seemed so far away.

O

"You're up early," Mrs. Clarissa Stein noted as she entered the kitchen.

Martin Stein, who was sitting at the table, nodded without looking up from the paper he was grading.

"You know," his wife said. "One of these days you are going to need to take a vacation. Take a little break from all this work."

Martin nodded wordlessly again.

Clarissa sat down opposite of him, "I know when something's bothering you, Martin. What is it?"

Martin finally set the paper he was grading down and looked up at his wife, "It's these dreams I keep having."

"Dreams?"

"Yes. All of my recent dreams seem to have some sort of pattern."

"Oh?"

"In every dream, it doesn't matter what my location or what I am doing, I always come across this young man. He is too far for me to speak with him, but upon seeing him, I am suddenly consumed with the desire to talk to him. Every time, I attempt to follow him, but despite my efforts, somehow I can never catch him," Martin paused. "I know they're just dreams, but they keep reoccurring, and I can't help but wonder if they mean something."

His wife leaned over the table and rubbed his hand reassuredly, "I'm sure it's nothing."

Martin nodded half-heartedly, clearly unconvinced.

O

Mick Rory downed the rest of his beer and loudly set it down on the bar counter in front of him. He canvassed his surroundings. The music thumped loudly, the girls danced provocatively, and there was booze everywhere. He smiled. He loved it here. A skinny man dressed in a suit appeared nervously at Mick's side. Mick looked at the man in annoyance.

"What is it?" he asked impatiently.

"Uh, boss, sir," the man began.

"Yes!" Mick said, the small amount of patience he had thinning.

"We have a problem."

"What do you mean, 'problem?' Everyone knows you can't mess with me."

"Well, obviously not everyone, sir, otherwise we would not be having this conversation."

Mick gave the man a look that could kill.

He nervously cleared his throat, "Someone broke into your office."

"What?!" Mick exclaimed explosively as he stood up from his stool.

The man nodded, "Oddly enough, it appears nothing has been taken."

Mick shoved passed the man and headed towards the back of the club to his office. He shoved open the door and quickly looked around the messy room and paused when he saw the broken window.

The nervous man stood in the doorway, not daring to enter Mick's office, "As I said before, sir, it appears that nothing was stolen."

"Everything is rearranged! How do you know nothing has been stolen?!"

"I-I don't, sir, I just didn't see anything missing when I initially investigated the room."

"Well, check again!" Mick ordered. "I need another drink."

"Yes, sir."

Mick stormed out of his office and back into the club, but something caught his eye. Everyone knew to fear Mick Rory; he was the king of this place, yet there was a man across the room looking at him with ice cold eyes with a small smirk on his face. The man seemed familiar somehow, but Mick didn't know why. He was on the verge of almost recalling a forgotten memory, when he was interrupted.

"Sir!"

Mick angrily spun around, miffed that he had lost the memory, "What?!"

"It appears that while we were back in your office, someone stole all of the money up front."

Mick immediately looked across the room, but the man he had seen earlier had vanished.

O

Captain Lance wearily unlocked the door to his house after a long day of work. He opened the door and was surprised to find that the house was dark. His wife should have been home.

"Honey?" Lance called out. "I'm home." Lance cautiously walked into the kitchen and turned on the light.

Lance jumped in surprise when the room suddenly erupted in noise, confetti, and laughter.

"Surprise!" people shouted, popping out from behind various kitchen appliances. Captain Lance chuckled and smiled when he saw a banner spanning across the length of the kitchen that read:

Happy Birthday, Quentin Lance!

Lance was suddenly smothered in hugs.

He chuckled as he returned his daughters' embrace. "Alright, girls, alright," he said pulling away to look at their faces. Sara and Laurel Lance smiled back at their father enthusiastically. "So tell me, whose idea was this?" he asked. The girls smiled at each other knowingly. "Laurel, was it you?"

"Actually," Sara said. "It was Mom's idea."

Captain Lance looked up to see his wife approaching him. When she reached him, she gave him a peck on the cheek and handed him a drink,

"Do you really think I'd forget my own husband's birthday?"

"Well..." Lance smiled giving his wife a playful smile.

"Quentin!" his wife exclaimed while playfully hitting him on the shoulder.

"C'mon, you two," Laurel said, directing her parents towards the table. "Let's go cut the cake."

Sara watched as her family cut the cake. Her dad said something that her mother playfully reprimanded him for, but it made Laurel laugh, causing the sound of her musical laughter to float across the room. Sara smiled, but she felt as if something was missing, as if something was off about this picturesque scene.

O

Burning, powerful energy pulsed through his body. He could feel it energizing him, sustaining him, causing him to feel as if he could do anything. It became too much for his body to maintain, and his hands and feet erupted in flames. He suddenly had this crazy idea, and he urged the fire at his hands and feet to intensify; it did. He rocketed off of the ground and soared through the sky. He felt the wind whipping past himself, and he shouted in excitement. He felt so free. He felt like he had no worries.

He circled in fanciful whirls and laughed as he gracefully arced through the clouds. A sharp, sudden pain wracked through his brain. He faltered and he began to fall. The pain began to throb and he managed to stop himself from falling to his demise. He slowly descended back to Earth, panting heavily.

"Jefferson!" a voice shouted, causing the pain in his head to increase. He knelt down and clutched his head. "Jefferson!" the voice repeated with more urgency.

"Stop," Jax managed to gasp. "Please, stop."

"Jax, are you okay?" a younger voice asked.

Jax opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. He instantly sat up unaware of his surroundings. He looked in the direction that the voice came.

"Hey, man," a man no older than twenty-one said. "Are you okay? You were shouting in your sleep."

Jax looked around at his college dorm room and sighed in relief. Everything was normal.

"Yeah," he said, rubbing his head. He had a slight, throbbing headache. "I was just dreaming."

"Cool," his roommate said, turning away. He suddenly turned back, "Oh, yeah, your dad called when you were asleep. I answered, and he said he needed to speak with you."

Jax nodded, still dazed from his powerful dream, "Thanks."

"No problem," his roommate said and nonchalantly left the room.

Jax sighed once more and rubbed his hand over his head. He really needed to get rid of this headache.

O

"Daddy, Daddy!" a small blond boy cried excitedly as he rushed into his father's arms. Rip Hunter picked up his small son and hugged him closely.

"Hello, Jonas," he said, a large smile stretching across his face.

"Rip?" a woman's voice called.

Rip set down Jonas. "Miranda, I'm home early!" he proclaimed happily.

Miranda appeared from around the corner and smiled at her husband. "Jonas," she said. "Go get ready for dinner." Jonas scurried off down the hallway. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Well, the Time Masters let me go home early."

Miranda raised an eyebrow skeptically, "For one, you are a time-traveler; for all I know you could be later than usual. And two, the Time Masters don't let people go home early. I know, because I used to work for them, same as you, Rip."

"I guess they made an exception," Rip said as he walked towards the kitchen. "What is that delicious smell?"

"It's your favorite."

Rip turned and smiled at his wife, "You are _wonderful_ , you know that?"

"I do," she said teasingly.

"Mum!" Jonas called from the kitchen. "Dinner's getting cold!"

Miranda laughed, "Alright, Jonas. We'll be in there in a second." She turned to Rip and she became serious. She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything Rip said,

"We shouldn't keep him waiting. It would be a shame if dinner got cold."

O

"Sorry I'm late," Ray said as he opened the door into his large, beautiful home. "I had to do a few interviews about the museum."

Anna quickly padded into to room with a large smile filling on her face. She hugged Ray tightly and then gave him a long, meaningful kiss.

"Not that I'm complaining or anything," Ray said. "But what was that for?"

Anna's smile grew wider, and she appeared as if she was glowing, "I have some good news. I'm pregnant."

O

Carter sprawled next to the fireplace, his features softened by the light from the mellow flames. He poured wine into a glass and handed it to Kendra who was also reclined on the floor next to him. Soft jazz played romantically in the background.

Kendra took a sip of her wine and smiled, "Isn't this great? Just the two of us together. No distractions, no other people," she paused and looked into Carter's eyes. "Nothing to bother us."

Carter smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. Kendra noticed.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he lied.

Kendra raised an eyebrow, "C'mon, Carter."

"I don't know," Carter admitted looking into his wine glass. "It just feels like this isn't real," he glanced at Kendra. "This can't be real. It's too perfect."

"What are you talking about? Of course this is real."

Carter shook his head as if trying to get rid of a bad memory, "Yeah, you're right. I don't know what I was thinking."

Kendra looked at him, concern tugging on her features, "You shouldn't worry so much."

Carter returned her gaze and smiled, "Well, one of us has to do it."

O

Mick tilted his head back and finished the contents in his glass. He loudly banged it down on the counter in front of him as if announcing his accomplishment.

"Another," he gruffly told the bar tender.

Mick's assistant appeared at his side as soon as the bartender returned with Mick's drink.

Mick sighed angrily, "What now?" He took a swig from his drink and turned his fiery gaze to his assistant.

"There's been a little, uh, skirmish, sir."

"What do you mean 'skirmish'?"

"I don't know exactly how it started, but it seems a few of our guys have started a fight with the rival mob family."

Mick swore and stood up, "Where?"

"Off of Main Street, sir. I suggest we get there as soon as possible to resolve the dispute."

"Yeah, yeah," Mick said and turned to grab his bottle off of the counter.

He paused as something caught his eye. The man he had seen earlier after his bar was robbed was sitting coolly in the back of the bar in a lone booth. His icy gaze settled on Mick. He took a sip from a glass, acting as if nothing was wrong.

"Sir!" his assistant nagged. "We need to hurry before this gets too out of hand!"

Mick turned to him and growled, "I'll meet you in the car." He looked back to where the man had been sitting, but, just like last time, he had vanished.

O

Sara unleashed the dice that were in the red cup, and they scattered across the table. She eagerly counted them.

"Yahtzee!" she exclaimed proudly.

"No way!" her father said. "This is like the third time in a row."

"You are _so_ cheating!" Laurel teased.

Sara smiled back her smugly, "You're just jealous you don't have my mad Yahtzee skills."

They all burst out laughing at this comment.

"I don't mean to be the one to spoil the fun," Sara's mom said. "But I only have time for one more round. I have a meeting tomorrow."

The girls groaned.

"Now, now, girls," Captain Lance said with a sparkle in his eye. "You know your mother's losing, so we should probably take it easy."

Mrs. Lance scoffed, "That's what you think! By the end of this round I'll have beat you all!"

"Is that a challenge?" Laurel asked.

"That's what it sounds like to me," Sara said.

Mrs. Lance picked up the dice and put them into the red cup with a determined smile on her face, "Be prepared to lose."

O

Jax walked into the café and spotted his dad at a nearby table. He walked over to him and sat down.

"Hey, Dad."

His father smiled, "How's my favorite son doing?"

"Dad, I'm you're only son."

His father chuckled, "And I couldn't be more proud."

Jax looked down at the table, heat rising to his cheeks. For some reason, whenever his dad complemented him, it meant the world to him. He didn't know why, but he cherished every moment he had with his father.

"Thanks, Dad."

"Can I buy you something?"

"Dad, I'm in college. I'm not a little kid anymore."

Jax's Dad smiled warmly, "I know you're in college; that means you're broke."

Jax returned his father's smile and chuckled, "Yeah. I am."

"I'll buy you a coffee, and we can catch up."

Jax stared at his father lovingly, "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, son."

O

Clarissa Stein turned to her side and stretched her hand out to the side of the bed where her husband slept. Her hand was met with sheets. She opened her eyes. Martin's side of the bed was empty. She immediately sat up and noticed a light was on downstairs. She quickly pulled on a robe and went downstairs.

"Martin?" she called cautiously. She entered the kitchen to find Martin making a quick cup of coffee. His suitcase and work briefcase lay by the door. Martin spun around upon hearing his name.

"Clarissa! Did I wake you?"

"No," she paused. "Martin, what is going on?"

Martin looked down at his suitcase.

"Martin…"

"Do you remember the dreams I was telling you about?"

"…the ones about the boy?"

"Yes. I had another one tonight, but this one was…different."

"Oh? How so?"

"In my dream, the young man was suffering from what appeared to be a terrible migraine. For some reason, I felt as if I could cure him. I felt as if my presence would relieve him from the pain he was experiencing."

Clarissa glanced back at Martin's suitcase, "Then where are you going?"

"In my dream, I saw the university the young man was attending. I'm planning on going there."

"Martin…"

"Look, I know how this sounds, but, Clarissa, I've never felt so sure about something in my entire life. I _need_ to go see him."

"What if he's not there?"

Martin paused, "Then I might need some medical attention."

Clarissa eyed him worriedly, "If anything happens, tell me. And if you aren't back in two days, I'm going to call for help."

Martin looked at his wife gratefully, "Thank you, Clarissa." He grabbed his car keys, suitcase, and briefcase, and headed out the door.

O

"I just put Jonas to bed," Miranda said to Rip as she sat down next to him on the couch.

Rip turned to Miranda and looked deeply into her eyes, "I love you."

"I love you too, Rip."

Rip frowned; her reply was not as heartfelt as he had expected, "What's wrong?"

"You know what's wrong. You've been avoiding this conversation ever since you've been home."

"I don't know what you mean," Rip obviously lied.

Miranda skeptically raised an eyebrow, "Rip…"

Rip looked down at the floor, but slowly lifted his gaze to Miranda. His eyes were glistening with tears.

"I miss you so much," he confessed.

"I know. But Rip, you know this isn't real."

Rip looked away, a tear falling down his cheek.

"The longer you stay here, the more danger you are in."

Rip let out a shaky breath, "I know."

"Your team's in danger, too."

Rip stood up angrily, "I know that too, Miranda!" He paced away from her and then turned back, "I'm sorry."

She looked at him sadly, "I know."

"It's just not fair!" he exclaimed.

"No, Rip, it's not fair," she said sternly. "But it's also not fair for you to stay here and endanger your team. You need to wake them up."

"And what makes you think they'll want to wake up?"

"They won't. They all have perfect lives here, just like you."

"Then what's the point?"

"The point is you rescuing your team from themselves."

Rip didn't reply.

Miranda continued, "You know how dream fabrications are. They were manufactured for the dreamer to die happily. To live the perfect life but never wake."

"But how can I wake them? They think this is real."

"Do they?"

Rip looked puzzled, "What do you mean?"

"The moment you entered the dream fabrication, you knew it wasn't real. It didn't take you long to figure out what it was."

"Yes, but none of the team even know what I dream fabrication is!"

"You're right, but they're smart people, Rip. I bet they know these perfect lives aren't real. All they need is a push, a reason, to stop dreaming. They need you."

Rip sat down next to her, "But I don't want to leave you."

"I know you can travel through time, Rip, but you need to stop living in the past."

Rip sighed. Miranda was right.

O

 **A/N: Sorry this first part was a bit slow. I promise it will be more exciting next chapter.**


	2. Everything's a Mess

Everything's a Mess

 _And all these sorrows I have seen_

 _They lead me to believe_

 _That everything's a mess_

Martin tried to start his car for what seemed to be the millionth time. He had tried everything, but his car still wouldn't start. He angrily hit the steering wheel and got out of his car. He opened up the hood to inspect it, but he was no mechanic. He had no idea what he was doing. Martin heard a car approaching and turned towards the road. Maybe if he could get this person's attention, he could get help. He waved his arms as the car came nearer. Martin smiled as the car began to slow down and pulled over to the side of the road. Martin's smile faltered as he saw who came out of the car.

O

Jax was driving back from the café when he saw something. An old man was pulled over on the side of the road and was waving frantically at him. Jax knew a thing or two about mechanics, so he pulled over and stepped out of his car. The man visibly paled upon seeing him.

"Hi," Jax said.

The man just stared.

Jax approached the car, "What seems to be the problem?"

"Uh, um," the man stuttered, finally finding his voice. "It won't start," he said lamely.

Jax walked over to the hood of the car and inspected the engine. Martin mentally kicked himself for acting so foolish and walked over to Jax.

"My apologies," he said, staring intently at Jax. "Have we met before?"

Jax looked up from the hood of the car and returned Stein's gaze, "I'm not sure. You actually seem kind of familiar."

"Professor Martin Stein," Martin said, extending his hand.

"Jefferson Jackson," Jax said, shaking Martin's hand. "You can call me Jax."

"Nice to meet you," Martin replied.

"Nice to meet you too, Professor."

O

He soared through the air, his powerful wings flapping mightily. He turned to see Kendra flying beside him, dressed in warrior garb. She looked beautiful, fierce, and strong. He smiled. This is where he belonged; the wind rushing past his face and rustling his wings, the adrenaline of being so high in the air, and the strong bond he felt when flying with Kendra.

Carter blinked as he saw a small, shiny object sail through the sky towards him. He didn't realize what it was until it was too late. A knife buried itself in Kendra's throat. She gurgled in surprise and clawed at the knife as she plummeted to the ground. Carter jerked his head in the direction that knife came and barely avoided being hit with a knife himself. He looked down at the ground to see an Arabic man dressed in elaborate, ornate robes lined with a variety of impressive daggers and knives. The man sneered at Carter and threw another knife in his direction. Carter swung to the left, but the knife clipped one of his wings and he began to plunge towards the ground. He landed with a grunt at the man's feet and fearfully looked up at him. The man smirked triumphantly.

"It was a valiant effort," he said mockingly. "But I'm afraid it was not good enough." The man bent down and sliced Carter's throat with a decorative knife.  
"Carter! Carter!"

A gentle hand caressed Carter's face. He opened his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Kendra's beautiful, but worried, face looking lovingly down upon him.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"It was just a bad dream."

"It seemed like more than that. You were really upset."

"Well, you died," he paused. "In my dream. I think."

Kendra looked puzzled, "I'm not dead, Carter."

Carter looked off in the distance as if he was remembering something, "But haven't you died before?"

"What are you talking about? Of course I haven't died before! Are you sure you're okay?"

Carter fully sat up and studied Kendra, "There was this…man."

Kendra looked confused.

"In my dream," Carter elaborated. "I'm sure I've seen him somewhere." Carter looked off into the distance again, "He killed us both."

"Carter, it was just a dream."

"But that's the thing. It seemed so real. It seemed – " Carter gasped. Memories flooded Carter's mind and hit him like a slap to the face. He remembered ancient Egypt, he remembered his first death, he remembered Vandal Savage, he remembered being born and reborn, he remembered falling in love with Kendra countless times, and he remembered fleeing for their lives everywhere they went. Carter was suddenly brought back to the present when Kendra tightly gripped his arm.

"Carter! What's wrong?"

"Kendra," he breathed. "I remember."

O

Ray happily hummed to himself as he walked down the street. Anyone could tell he was beaming with joy. Ray was beginning to really get into his humming when he heard something. He paused and listened. He heard a meaty thump and a cry of pain. Ray raced towards the noise. He stopped when he reached the alley where the noise came from. Two men were holding another man down while a third punched him in the gut. The restrained man groaned.

"Hey!" Ray shouted. The men looked in his direction.

"Keep moving!" one of the men holding the injured man commanded.

Ray hesitated and looked at the beaten man, "No."

The men exchanged a look.

"No?" the leader asked.

"That's right," Ray said while stepping into the alley. "Now let this man go," he said gesturing to the wounded man.

The three criminals chuckles, "Is this guy for real?" one of them asked.

"I said let him go," Ray said with more confidence than he had.

The men looked at each other. They released the injured man and slowly approached Ray.

"If you say so," the leader said, the other two men flanking him.

Ray held up his fists, prepared to fight.

O

A black SUV quickly pulled up to a devastating scene of dead bodies and gun-ridden buildings. Mick opened the car door angrily and slammed it shut. He assistant nervously got out of the car behind him.

"I guess we didn't get here in time," he said timidly.

Mick was about to reply when he heard an explosion; the building behind them suddenly caught fire. Mick and his assistant ducked behind the car.

"Help!" someone cried from within the building.

"Should we help, sir?"

Mick looked at his assistant as if he had just asked him what two plus two was, "Of course not!"

"…it could be one of our men."

"It might not."

"What if it was a member of the rival mob family? We could get some information."

Mick glared at his assistant, "You check the back. I'll go in the front."

His assistant nodded and raced towards the back of the building. Mick nonchalantly walked to the front of the building and opened the door as if it there hadn't been an explosion nearly a minute earlier. Mick entered the building, took a quick look at his surroundings, and turned to leave when the room suddenly combusted into flames. Mick turned around. There was some sort of flammable fluid covering the floor and the fire eagerly spread its way across the room. Mick stared in awe.

The flames danced around the room and cast dark, flickering shadows across the walls. The flames themselves were so beautiful. They quivered in pure, raw energy – an energy so powerful that it could not be contained to any one shape. The flames bounced and arced across the room like joyous spirits dancing in celebration. The brightness of the flames cast an earthy glow on the room, causing everything to look mellow and soft. The fire was always moving and changing. Its energy and motion completely unharnessed. Fire was the image of wholesome, pristine power; its power unmatched by anything else. The heat the fire emanated was able to warm the entire building; the heat that suddenly seemed too close.

Mick blinked and realized the hungry flames were nearly a foot away from him. He took and step back and turned towards the door to find that the door was also blocked by the flames. Mick was suddenly aware of the smoke and began to cough. He covered his mouth with his sleeve, but it was useless. He was trapped by the very thing he admired. Mick jumped at the sound of a loud smashing noise to his right. It seemed too early for the building to be collapsing already. The noise sounded again, and the wall to Mick's left burst open.

"Mick!" a voice called.

Mick could barely make out a figure through the smoke and ever-changing light caused by the fire. Mick stumbled in the voice's direction. When he drew nearer to the wall, a strong arm pulled him from the burning building and into the clean, sweet air. He took in several large gulps of this beautiful air and turned to his rescuer. It was the mysterious man from the club.

He stared at Mick coolly, "You're gonna get yourself killed."

"Who are you?"

"You really don't remember me, do you?"

"Why? Should I?"

"Mick!" the voice of Mick's assistant floated through the air.

"Don't go anywhere," Mick said sternly to the strange man.

"No promises," he replied icily.

"Mick!" his assistant called, rounding the corner. "I thought you, well, you know."

"You thought I died? It'd take more than a simple fire to kill me."

His assistant looked at Mick confusedly, "Did you find someone? I thought I heard you talking to somebody."

Mick turned to look back at the man he was speaking to earlier, but he was gone, yet again.

"No," Mick replied gruffly. "I didn't find anyone."

O

Sara and Laurel walked happily down the sidewalk of Star City.

"Oh, c'mon, Laurel," Sara said, giving her sister a teasing smile. "I saw the way he was looking at you."

"Sara!" she said swatting Sara lightly on the arm. "Besides, it's not like that at all."

Sara rolled her eyes, "Sure it's not."

Laurel sputtered.

Sara laughed, "See? You can't deny it."

"Hey, pretty girls," a rough voice said.

Sara and Laurel turned to see a rugged, ruffled man slouched against the wall of a building next to an alley looking at them with a lopsided grin on his face. The girls looked at each other and began to walk faster.

"Hey!" the man called. "I was talking to you!"

Laurel screamed as the man grabbed her and pulled her into the nearby alley.

"Laurel!" Sara said, racing after her sister into the alley. "Take your hands off my sister!"

"Or what?" a voice behind Sara asked hungrily.

Sara spun around to see another grubby looking man holding a knife slowly approaching her. Sara tensed and warily eyed his knife.

"That's what I thought," the man with the knife said.

He lunged at Sara, but she sidestepped him and grabbed him by his arm and used his momentum to bring his face to her knee. She wrenched the knife from his hand and elbowed him in the back of the head. He crumpled to the floor. The man holding Laurel faltered, but Sara was unstoppable. She ran towards the wall, pushed off of it with one foot, and arced through the sky towards the man, and punched him in the face as she descended. He landed on the ground with a thump. Sara knelt beside the man on the ground and stood up shakily.

"…Sara?" Laurel said timidly.

Sara mirrored her sister's fear and dropped the knife. It clattered to the floor next to the man who had been holding Laurel. Sara was breathing heavily. Laurel saw her sister's distress and immediately went over to her.

"Let's go home," Laurel said while guiding Sara by the shoulders out of the alley.

O

"Can someone tell me what's going on?" a confused Ray asked.

"Yes," Martin agreed. "I was thinking that same thing myself."

Martin, Jax, Ray, and Mick all stood upon a rooftop. A cool night breeze lightly rustled their clothing.

"I thought I was going to an international convention on molecular science," Ray explained.

"You don't seem like a scientist," Mick noted, nodding at Ray's black eye and small scrape across his nose. "What happened to you anyway?"

Ray looked down in embarrassment, "It's a long story."

The door to the rooftop opened and Kendra and Carter joined the others on the rooftop.

"Great," Mick said sarcastically. "If things weren't confusing enough, who are _these_ people?"

Kendra and Carter assessed the others warily.

"Hello," Martin said approaching them. "I am Professor Martin Stein and this is my associate Jefferson Jackson."

"Hi," Jax said waving. "You can call me Jax."

Kendra smiled and shook their hands, "I'm Kendra and this is Carter."

Kendra gave Carter a pointed look and he shook their hands reluctantly.

"Who's that?" Carter said gesturing towards Mick. Mick heard him.

"I'm Mick Rory. I'd say it was a pleasure to meet you, but I'd be lying."

"What a nice guy," Carter muttered to Kendra. She giggled.

The door to the rooftop opened once more, and Sara strode onto the roof and paused when she saw the others. She eyed them suspiciously, but approached them anyway.

"So…" she said. "What's going on?"

"Hopefully, I might be able to shed some light on the situation," someone said.

The team turned around.

"My name is Rip Hunter, and I'm here to save you."

"Save us?" Sara asked.

"Save us from what, exactly?" Kendra said.

"Yourselves."

The team exchanged a look.

"I don't know about you, but I don't need saving," Mick said and began to leave.

"Mr. Rory!" Rip called. This caused Mick to pause.

He turned, "How do you know my name?"

"Because we are friends."

Mick looked at Rip unconvinced, "I don't remember you."

"None of you do," Rip said addressing the whole team. "But we all know each other."

The team surveyed each other.

"He is right," Martin said. The others turned to him, "I have been having these dreams about Jefferson."

"Wait, what?" Jax asked.

Martin ignored him, "In these dreams I seem to know him. The other day I felt as if I knew where he was, and so I went to find him. Sure enough, we met."

"Besides the fact that that is _really_ creepy, I actually feel the same way," Jax admitted. "When I first saw Professor Stein, I felt like I had met him before, but I don't actually have a memory of meeting him."

"I'm confused," Mick stated.

"What Professor Stein and Mr. Jackson are saying is that they are beginning to remember reality," Rip explained.

"What do you mean 'reality'?" Sara asked. "Isn't this real?"

Rip sighed sadly, "I'm afraid not, Ms. Lance."

"If this isn't reality," Kendra began. "Then where are we?"

"You are all in a dream," Rip answered.

"A dream?" Ray asked skeptically. "How is this a dream? I've never had a dream this real."

Rip sighed, "That is my fault. You see, we are all a part of this team. I am supposed to be your leader, but I failed you. We were on a mission, but we were attacked. The enemy found us, and they attacked us with weapons that are able to create what are known as dream fabrications."

"Dream fabrications?" Martin said. "I am unfamiliar with that term."

"As you should be," Rip said. "They do not come from this planet."

"Now I'm really confused," Mick said.

"Look," Rip said. "All you need to know is that you are trapped in a dream. If you do not wake up soon, you will be stuck here forever and will eventually die."

"Well, then," Martin said. "How do we wake up?"

"Excellent question, Professor," Rip said. "Once you realize you are dreaming, you will wake up naturally."

"What about you?" Jax asked. "You know this is a dream, and you aren't awake."

"This is not my first time inside of a dream fabrication," Rip said mysteriously. "I know how to recognize one, and, in turn, I can control when I wake up." Rip looked at his team once more, "I know this is not easy to take in, but you need to wake up soon. You have about twenty-four hours until you are permanently asleep. Please, consider what I have told you," Rip turned and began walking away.

"So, you're just going to leave us?" Ray asked.

Rip stopped and turned back to the Legends, "I cannot wake you up; you have to do this yourselves. I will try to help you the best I can, but you need to do this. Please, try your best to see that this is a dream."

O

 **A/N: I apologize if this was confusing. If this was confusing, please review and ask about it, and I will try to clear things up.**


	3. Leave Me to Dream

Chapter Three: Leave me to Dream

 **A/N: This is the last chapter. I'm extremely nervous about this one, so please tell me what you think. Thank you all for reading this! I hope you enjoy! :)**

 _But I wanna dream_

 _I wanna dream_

 _Leave me to dream_

The silence was deafening. It seemed to smother the entire house. It had been silent so long that Carter thought he had begun to lose his hearing until Kendra said,

"What do you think?" she asked, looking across the table at Carter.

"You know what I think. I know what he is saying is true."

Kendra looked back down at the table.

"We can't keep doing this," Carter said exasperatedly. "We need to make a decision before it's too late."

"You think it's true because of your 'memories' of our 'past lives'?"

Carter nodded, "Kendra, I know this is hard to believe, but it's true. I cannot tell you how many times we have had this conversation. For some reason, I usually seem to remember our past lives before you do."

Kendra stared at Carter in disbelief.

"I'm not asking you to believe me, Kendra. I'm asking you to trust me. You trust me, don't you?"

Kendra nodded.

"Then you need to trust me on this. This is a dream."

"But how can you say that? Our lives our perfect here! Why would you ever want to wake up?"

Carter looked at her sadly, "I don't. But I don't want you to die this way either. If we die now, who knows how long it will be before we find each other again."

"You really believe this, don't you?" Kendra asked seriously.

"Yes."

"Alright," Kendra finally said. "I guess it's time we woke up."

Carter smiled and reached his hand across the table to her. She grabbed it and held tightly onto it.

"We can do this," Carter reassured. Kendra looked into Carter's eyes resolutely and nodded.

They awoke.

O

"You've been very silent, Jefferson," Martin noted as he drove them down the road. He glanced at Jax.

Jax sighed, "Yeah."

"Is something wrong?"

"It's my dad."

"What's wrong with your father?"

Jax hesitated, "I think he's dead in the real world.

"Oh, Jefferson, I'm so sorry."

Jax shrugged, "It's okay."

"No, Jefferson, it's not really 'okay'. He is your father."

"I know, but I feel like I said all I needed to say to him here, so I feel okay about it now."

"So, you think this is a dream then?"

"You know, normally, I don't think I'd believe that, but ever since I met you, it felt like that was the only 'real' thing that has happened here. I know that doesn't make much sense."

"No, Jefferson, I completely understand. I feel the same way," Martin agreed.

"So," Jax started. "Are we gonna wake up now?"

Martin opened his mouth to reply, but the dream world suddenly flashed a brilliant white, and they awoke.

O

Mick sat down at the bar. The bartender placed a drink in front of him.

"I didn't order anything," Mick said to the bartender.

"The guy over there bought you this," the bartender said, nodding in the direction of the enigmatic man Mick kept on seeing.

Mick picked up his drink and walked over to the man.

"Hello, Mick."

"Who are you?" Mick said hotly.

The man coolly took a drink from his glass and slowly set it down. He surveyed Mick with icy eyes.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" Mick asked. He was getting that feeling again of almost recovering a lost memory, but it managed to escape his grasp.

"We used to be partners."

"Partners?"

"We stole stuff together," he took another sip of his drink.

"Like what?"

"Doesn't matter," the man said, waving his hand dismissively. "What matters is that you need to wake up."

"This isn't a dream."

"C'mon, Mick. You have the perfect life; you don't think that's a bit strange?"

Mick glanced around the room. Everything _was_ perfect. He owned this club. He was popular. He was rich. He was feared.

"Why do you care if I wake up?" Mick finally asked.

The man sighed as if it pained him to say what he said next, "Because you're my friend."

"I don't have friends."

He rolled his eyes, "You definitely won't if you don't wake up."

"What's your name?" Mick asked.

The other man finished his drink and stood up as if he was going to leave. He paid for their drinks and turned to Mick one last time, "My name is Leonard Snart."

Mick felt like he was hit in the head with a sledge hammer. Memories of Snart flooded through his mind; he remembered defending the scrawny kid in juvie, he remembered their first job together, he remembered getting burned by the fire from the job that went south, he remembered acquiring the hot gun, he remembered joining the Legends, and he remembered Snart dying. Mick blinked and looked back to where Snart had been standing. He was gone. Mick looked over at the door just in time to see Snart leaving. He immediately got off of his chair and quickly went after Snart. Mick opened the door and the cold night air sharpened his senses.

"You're dead!" he shouted across the empty lot to Snart. "How are you here?"

Snart turned around and walked towards Mick, "This is a dream, Mick. I'm the part of you that wants to wake up."

"What if I don't want to wake up?" Mick asked; Snart was nearly a foot away now.

"Then I'll do this," Snart punched Mick squarely in the nose.

Mick awoke with a gasp.

O

"Ray," Anna said sitting on the couch next to Ray. "What's wrong?"

The fire from the fireplace cast a dazzling, mellow light in Anna's eyes as she looked lovingly up at Ray.

"Nothing," Ray lied, plastering a fake smile over his face.

"Ray," Anna said seriously, raising an eyebrow. "You have been acting strangely ever since you got home."

Ray sighed and fully turned towards Anna, "I don't think this is real."

"What's real?"

"This," Ray said gesturing to his big, beautiful home. "You," he said looking into Anna's eyes. "Our baby. None of it seems real. It's too perfect. _You're_ too perfect."

"Then what is it then?"

"I think it's a dream."

"But you don't want to wake up," Anna finished for him. She knew him so well.

Ray looked at her and shook his head. Anna raised her hand and gently caressed Ray's beaten face.

"You don't belong here," she said at last.

Ray looked at her confused.

"This life isn't meant for you. You were meant for something greater."

"So, you think this is a dream, too?"

"Ray, I know this life doesn't suit you."

"What do you mean?"

Anna giggled, "Ray, you tried to save a man being beaten by muggers and ended up getting beaten yourself. You're brave, Ray," she paused. "You're a hero."

Ray looked into the fire thoughtfully, "No." He looked back at Anna with determination, "I'm a Legend."

Ray awoke.

O

"Alright," Laurel said entering Sara's room and sitting next to her on her bed. "Are you gonna tell me what's bothering you?"

"Laurel, I'm fine."

"Oh, c'mon, Sara. We both know that isn't true. Earlier today you somehow managed to take down two men. Something's up."

"I don't know how I did that," Sara admitted quietly.

The phone rang beside Sara's bed, causing her to jump. Laurel looked at her concernedly. Sara ignored her and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Ah! Ms. Lance!" a familiar voice said.

"…Rip?"

"Yes, Ms. Lance, it's me."

"How did you get my number?"

"This is a dream. I can do a number of things here that I can't do in the real world."

"What do you want?"

"Sara," Rip said seriously, using Sara's first name instead of calling her Ms. Lance. "You need to wake up soon, or you'll be trapped in the dream world forever. All you have to do is accept that this isn't real; that this is a dre – "

Sara hung up the phone.

Laurel raised an eyebrow, "Who was that?"

"An old friend."

"Didn't sound like one."

Sara didn't answer.

"Sara," Laurel said. "I don't know what's going on with you, but I'm your sister. I know you. I know that look."

"What look?"

"The look where you know what you need to do, but you refuse to do it."

Sara rose from the bed, "I'm going to take a walk."

"Sara," Laurel said also rising from the bed, looking into her sister's eyes. "Make the right choice, okay."

Sara turned around and left the room without answering. She angrily walked down the stairs and opened the door. She was unprepared for the cold and hugged herself. She looked back at the house and thought about getting a jacket, but moved on instead. She folded her arms across her chest and began walking down the street. She was suddenly aware of someone watching her. Sara looked across the road and saw a man nonchalantly leaning against a lamppost. He seemed familiar. He pushed off of the lamppost and walked across the street. Sara tensed.

"It's cold outside," he commented. He took off his blue winter coat and handed it to Sara.

"I didn't ask for your help."

He ignored her and continued to hold out his coat for her to take. Sara reluctantly took it. It was surprisingly warm. She looked back at the man. He seemed unfazed by the cold.

"Who are you?" she finally asked.

He studied her for a moment and then said, "You need to wake up."

Sara began to walk away. He followed her.

"What do you want?!" Sara said suddenly turning around. He nearly ran into her. They were mere inches apart.

"Wake up, Sara! What are you still doing here? You know this isn't real."

"I'm not leaving."

"You're going to die."

"What, like you?"

This caught him off guard, "…you remember?"

"Of course I remember," she said quietly. "I knew this was a dream for a long time."

"Then why didn't you wake up?"

"Because I want this life."

"Tough."

Sara looked down.

"Besides," Snart said. "How will the team manage without you?"

She looked back up at him, her eyes sparkling with tears. She exhaled and she could see her breath. It was getting colder. She had to wake up soon. She looked at Snart and drew even closer to him. She leaned in to kiss him, and she could feel his heat as she pulled him closer. Just before their lips met, Sara awoke with a gasp, and a single tear ran down her cheek and lightly landed on the floor.

The end


End file.
